


Shout it from the Rooftops

by dracogotgame



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-31 00:43:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6448684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracogotgame/pseuds/dracogotgame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco is in a closet. And he is NOT happy about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shout it from the Rooftops

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt on Tumblr

They fell on the bed in a tangle of limbs. Draco closed his eyes and hummed in approval as Harry trailed a line of kisses down his throat.

“Alone at last,” he murmured between kisses.

Harry chuckled and nuzzled his forehead affectionately. “Eager, are we?” he enquired with a mischievous glint in his eye.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Well, all this sneaking around is hardly ideal. I’ll take what I can get.”

Harry ceased his ministrations and sat up abruptly. Draco rolled his eyes at his boyfriend’s guilty expression. “You know I love you, right?” Harry said softly. “I do, really. It’s just…”

“Potter.”

Draco took the opportunity to wrap his legs around Harry’s waist. “I’m not a—what are those infernal women in your cartoon movies called again? Oh, yes. I’m not some weepy Disney princess…”

Harry snickered and Draco huffed in amusement.

“…who needs you to shout your love from rooftops,” he finished firmly. “Believe it or not, I like the way things are right now.” He let a salacious smile curve his lips and drew Harry in again. “Besides, the thrill of getting caught certainly makes it interesting.”

Harry laughed against his lips and took the hint, deepening the chaste kiss into something far more pleasurable. Draco closed his eyes and let himself drift away in a sea of gentle touches and tantalising sensations. Who cared if Harry wasn’t ready to go public with their relationship yet? Oh no, this was _fine_. This was absolutely, perfectly…

“Harry? You home? I’m coming through with Mione!”

Draco froze and Harry sprang up as if he’d been burned. As they stared into each other’s eyes— panicked and horrified— Draco heard the dim _whoosh_ of the Floo.

“Shite!” Harry hissed. He scrambled off Draco and started tugging on his shirt.

“What are they doing here?” Draco demanded.

“I don’t know!” Harry whispered back.

“Harry?” That was definitely Granger’s voice. “Is this a good time? I told Ron we should have called but…”

“Be right out!” Harry called back. “I’m just…uh, changing!”

Draco gaped at him. “What do you mean _be right out?”_ he demanded. “I was here first! Get rid of them!”

Harry ignored him in favour of tugging on his shoes. Out of spite, Draco didn’t point out that he needed to put on his trousers first. Harry turned to him with a pleading look.

“I’ll get rid of them as soon as I can,” he promised urgently. “I’ll meet you back at your flat in no time. Just try not to trip the wards when you Disapparate.”

“I can’t Disapparate,” Draco informed him tersely. “I left my wand at home when you picked me up!”

“Then use the Floo!”

“I can’t! Your friends are out there!”

“Harry?” They both jumped as Weasley knocked sharply on the bedroom door. “You okay in there?”

Draco cursed— quietly, and no it wasn’t satisfying enough— and Harry scrambled to pull his trousers on.

“In a minute!” he hollered. When he turned back to Draco, his eyes were wide with panic. “What do we do?”

“It looks like we’re out of options,” Draco mused bitterly. They would have to come clean. Oh, he could just imagine Weasley’s face. This was going to be shouting match of epic proportions. No doubt he would be accused of corrupting Harry…among other, less savoury denunciations.

“Unless…”

Harry’s gaze shifted and turned speculative. Draco frowned and turned to follow his line of sight…

…right up to the ornate mahogany closet right next to the bed.

“No,” he declared firmly.

“Look,” Harry began, his tone suddenly cajoling, “I know this isn’t ideal…”

“I’m not hiding in your closet.”

“Harry?” That was Granger again, curse her. “Are you sure you’re alright in there?”

“I’m fine!” Harry practically bellowed. He turned beseeching eyes on Draco. “Please? I’ll get rid of them as fast as I can. It’ll only be a few minutes, an hour tops! You can’t honestly tell me you want to deal with all the drama right now, do you?”

That was a fair point. There was no way he was facing Weasley’s bellowing and Granger’s wand tonight.

“Fifteen minutes,” he declared. “You have fifteen minutes to get them out of here or I will.”

“Done,” Harry declared.

Draco shot him one last dirty look and promptly slipped into the almirah.

And not a moment too soon.

“Honestly, Harry,” Granger scolded, swinging the door open and planting her hands on her hips. “What on earth is taking you so long?”

From the crack in the door, Draco could see her bushy hair, practically crackling with suspicion.

“Nothing, nothing,” Harry lied unconvincingly. “Just doing a little…laundry.”

Draco snorted at the thought of Harry cleaning anything. There was a dull thud in response, as something heavy smacked against the closet. Draco clapped a hand to his mouth and focused on breathing slowly.

“Why did you throw your shoe at the closet?” Weasley asked, poking his head in suddenly.

“It was…in my way,” Harry blurted. “What are you doing here?”

Granger rolled her eyes. “We were just on our way to meet my parents,” she explained, “and Ron remembered that he’d left his lucky tie here at your place.”

Draco’s eyes widened as he spotted the tie dangling an inch from his nose. It was red with golden snitches fluttering up and down the length of fabric. He suppressed a repulsed shudder. There was no way Harry owned that ghastly thing.

Salazar damn it all.

“No, you didn’t,” Harry said at once.

“Yes, I did,” Weasley replied.

“No, you didn’t,” Harry insisted.

“Yes, I did. Last week at dinner,” Weasley countered. “It’s probably in your closet. Here, I’ll just…”

**“No!”**

Weasley froze mid-step and Granger started as Harry backed up hurriedly and bodily barricaded the closet door.

“Doxy infestation,” he blurted. “Terrible business, they’re everywhere. You do not want to open that door, believe me.”

“Uh, okay?” Weasley offered. He exchanged a perplexed look with Granger, then shrugged. “I guess I don’t really need that tie.”

Granger smiled. “That’s what I keep telling you. Mum and Da are going to love you!” She gave him an affectionate peck on his lips.

Draco tried not to make retching sounds, he really did.

“What was that noise?” Weasley demanded, looking around.

“Doxies,” Harry explained hastily. “Hey, so I don’t want to keep you guys. Good luck with the parents and all…”

“Oh, we’ve got a little time before dinner,” Granger offered brightly.

“Yeah, Harry,” Weasley agreed. “How about some tea and biscuits?”

Draco did his level best to burn holes in the back of Harry’s head. It must have had some effect because his boyfriend winced uncomfortably, but it was all for naught. Granger and Weasley were still looking at him expectantly and Draco just knew he was going to be spending a long, uncomfortable hour and a half in this cramped closet.

“Sure,” Harry mumbled. “Why not?”

“Lovely,” Granger exclaimed. “I’ll just put the kettle on, shall I?”

* * *

 

 

Twenty minutes later, there was a cautious tap on the closet door.

“Draco?”

Draco scrambled up— temporarily abandoning his mission to switch all of Harry’s shirts with the wrong set of trousers. “Are they gone?” he whispered back.

“Not quite.” Harry sounded rueful. “Ron wants to play a game of Exploding Snap.”

“Potter, for Merlin’s sake!”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, okay? Just…hang on for a bit longer, okay?”

“Fine,” Draco groused. It wasn’t like he had a choice.

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

Draco gave it some thought. “Biscuits would be nice.”

There was a telling silence. “Seriously?”

“You asked! And I’m starving in here!”

“Okay, okay…”

Draco accepted the offered biscuit with bad grace, and he made doubly sure to bite Harry’s fingers as soon as they were in reach.

“Ow!” Harry hissed, withdrawing his hand quickly. “I said I was sorry! Just…try to amuse yourself, okay?”

Draco muttered sullenly under his breath as Harry left. He sighed and stretched his legs as far as they would go. Merlin, he was so _bored_. What on earth was he supposed to do to occupy himself? He shifted slightly and something clanged against his leg.

Draco raised an eyebrow at the can of purple paint. What on earth? Oh, wait. Harry had mentioned something about redecorating recently. Draco rolled his eyes. Of course he would plan to do it the Muggle way. _And_ leave the paint in the closet right next to his…

Draco grinned.

Harry _had_ told him to amuse himself, hadn’t he? Well, he only had himself to blame then.

Draco grabbed the paintbrush and picked up a nice, expensive pair of Dragonhide boots.

Now, for the tough decision: polka dots or penises?

* * *

 

 

He must have nodded off for a bit because when Draco stirred, he heard voices.

“Well, this was fun,” Granger was saying, “but we should get moving.”

“So soon?”

Draco smirked at the obvious note of relief in Harry’s voice.

“Mm hm,” Granger agreed. “And…Harry? You do know that you can tell us anything, don’t you?”

Draco froze. He didn’t like where this was going.

“Of course I would,” Harry agreed hesitantly.

There was a telling silence. Draco groaned. He could just imagine Granger’s raised eyebrow.

“So, if you were—oh, I don’t know—dating someone,” she said thoughtfully, “you’d introduce them to us instead of...let’s say, shoving them in a closet?”

“I…what?” Harry blurted.

“What?” Weasley echoed.

Granger huffed impatiently. “Harry, Doxies only nest in the winter. Did you pay attention in Care of Magical Creatures at all?”

Harry mumbled something vaguely unconvincing and Draco face palmed. Damn that witch! She really was too smart for her own good.

“There’s someone in the closet?” Weasley blurted.

“Yes,” Granger informed him. “And I think it’s high time we found out who it is.”

Draco’s shoulders slumped and he kicked the door open. When he trudged out the bedroom, Harry was hiding his face in his hands and Weasley was gaping. Granger looked oddly satisfied.

“I knew it,” she declared triumphantly.

She probably had, damn her.

“Weasley, Granger, pleasure to see you,” Draco lied glibly. “Weasley, I believe this is yours.”

“My lucky tie!” Weasley exclaimed happily, pocketing the ghastly thing. Then he turned to Harry. “So, you’re dating Malfoy?”

Harry nodded uneasily, his eyes flicking from his friends to Draco. “I wanted to tell you but…” He trailed off and shook his head. Then he straightened up and lifted his chin determinedly, before striding over to Draco. Draco raised an eyebrow as Harry swung an arm around his shoulders. “We’re together,” Harry declared firmly, “and I love him. So, I guess you two are going to be seeing a lot more of Draco and…well, yeah.”

Sweet as his firm declaration was— and he would never admit that it made his heart flutter a tiny bit— Draco still waited nervously for the fallout. He really wished he had his wand, if only to shield himself from the hexes that were sure to fly.

“Oh,” Weasley said, breaking the tense silence. “Okay.”

“That’s fine,” Granger agreed. “Dinner at our place tomorrow then, right?”

Wait, what?

“What?” Harry blurted. “You’re…you’re okay with this? Ron?”

Weasley cocked his head and observed Draco for a moment or so. “Well, he’s one step up from Doxy infestation,” he offered.

“Thanks,” Draco replied dryly. Nonetheless, his arm crept up and wrapped around Harry’s waist.

Granger quirked an eyebrow and smiled. “Well, you two clearly have plans of your own so we’ll just see ourselves out. Goodnight, Malfoy. And Harry, next time try talking to us and see where that gets you, yes?”

Harry grinned. “Thanks, Mione,” he said warmly.

They stepped into the fireplace and were gone in seconds. Harry waited for a moment until the ash had settled and then he drew Draco into a deep, languid kiss.

“You know,” he murmured, “I think I’m done hiding.”

“Is that so?” Draco enquired. “You realise that the _Prophet_ will be a much harder sell than those two?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t care. I want to be with you— really be with you— and if that means risking a few Howlers every now and then, that’s okay with me.”

There really was nothing Draco could say to that. And he would admit, if only privately, that it felt nice to know Harry wasn’t ashamed of him, of what they had.

“I love you,” he said, pulling Harry back into the bedroom.

Harry followed without protest. “I love you too,” he said, pushing Draco back on the bed and looming over him. “And I know you don’t need it but…I want to shout it from the rooftops anyway.”

Draco heart surged and he pulled his boyfriend in for a kiss. Harry followed his lead and for a moment, everything was perfect again. Until…

“Draco?”

“Hm?”

“Did you paint a penis on my new boots?”


End file.
